In the shark-infested waters of the dating market, a balding middle-aged professor is dead meat.But the poetry, ah, those magic syllables, that hypnot...c rhythm.Some crazy impulse made him walk into a dance club. The Snakepit was a maelstrom of drifting blue cigarette smoke, mirrors, flashing multicolored lights, and loud heavy metal music that made meaningful conversation superfluous. He sat down at a battered wooden table two vacant chairs distant from a woman. She was a young dishwater. I decided that I was letting society make too many decisions for me. I could determine what I did or didn't like. As long as no one was coerced into something they didn't want and we didn't hurt our "public' positions and we had a few ground rules about some things that I found personally repulsive, scat play, involving children, etc., then I was willing to play and try things as they came.With that decision in hand, I reexamined what had been happening and decided that none of it was beyond. He was already hard, she could see through his trousers. With a lurch of pleasure, she realised where this was going to end. She reached down and caressed him through the thin material. He groaned and pulled her, roughly this time, into another intense kiss. His hands found her breasts through the cotton of her shirt, and he pinched her nipples, hard. She whimpered into his mouth. He pulled away and grabbed his coat out from behind the drivers’ seat. He laid it on the floor and grinned up at. .. feet likethat, lean forward a bit... other hand here and... perfect!" she criedhappily as she stepped back again, looking her handiwork over. Link wasposing with a hip jutting out girlishly, with one hand delicately placedon it while lifting the skirt up slightly and the other near his cheekwith his index finger extended. He was bending over a little bit, withhis legs crossed over at the ankles. The dress was lifted high enough toshow leave his high-heeled feet visible, while he leant.
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